


let me show you

by HazelHare



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, I needed Eliot to push Hardison up against a wall and kiss him, M/M, and so I made that happen using words and spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelHare/pseuds/HazelHare
Summary: Hardison has been complaining, on and on, about what to do about Parker.Eliot decides to justshowhim what to do.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 87





	let me show you

Hardison and Eliot are in the apartment, on the chairs at the dining counter. 

Hardison is talking animatedly; Eliot has mostly tuned out and is drinking a beer.

“-so I, I, told her ‘I got you, girl’-“

“Mhm.”

“-I can’t buy her flowers because she hates flowers-“

“Mhm.”

“-she loves chocolate but to be honest she’s a little scary when she’s on chocolate, but she turns and she smiles at me?” Hardison closed his eyes and thumped his chest. “It gets me, right here.”

“Mhm.”

“Are- are you even listening?”

“Not really.”

“Oh? Oh, ‘not really’, thanks a lot. Thank you, that’s just great.”

Eliot growled noncommittally.

“What do I do about Parker?!”

Eliot put his beer down, looked up at Hardison and scoffed.

“You wanna know what to do?”

“Yes! For the last ten minutes that’s all I’ve been asking you, what do I do about Parker?”

In a fluid movement that took Hardison by surprise, Eliot had his hand on his shoulder, arm across his chest, and had pushed him into the pillar.

“What’re you-?”

Eliot clenched his jaw.

“You want me to help or not?!”

“Ok, fine, just stop yelling!”

Eliot paused, breathed. He knew he was good at this; he knew how this goes. He let his lower lip drop just a little, watched Hardison’s eyes follow it.

Eliot loosened his grip on Hardison’s shirt and moved it confidently to cup his face; keeping eye contact; stepping in closer towards him; one thigh nudging Hardison’s apart.

He leaned in, all beer and confidence and the slight scratch of stubble. Hardison’s eyes had closed before their faces touched, and Eliot allowed himself a smirk at being right.

I mean, don’t get him wrong: the hugs have been great, and the arm-punches, and that one time in East Timor when they were hiding in a crate together for six hours and he pretended to be cross that Hardison fell asleep on him, but this,  _ this _ is what he had been waiting for.

A nice mix of surprise and delight quickly made way for gentleness, warmth, and a light but pressing hunger. Hardison tasted distressingly of orange soda, but it was worth it to feel his hand at the back of his neck, in his hair, gripping urgently.

Eliot paused, pressed his hands against Hardison’s chest, and gently pushed himself back.

He let Hardison catch his breath and open his eyes again.

“Your turn,” he muttered.

“I- what?”

Eliot stepped back a little, frustrated, and gestured at the two of them.

“I was being you, you were being Parker. Now  _ you _ be you, and I’ll be Parker.”

Hardison was still looking dazed, and a little out of focus.

“So I-“

“Dammit, Hardison, just come at me.”

Hardison shook out his limbs, psyched himself up, exhaled.

“Ok.” He paused. “Which arm do I put on your chest?”

“For fu-“ Eliot pitched his eyes to the ceiling, “-it doesn’t  _ matter _ , c’mon man.”

“I just would appreciate some notes!”

Eliot’s jaw clenched, and he flicked his head in frustration. He emitted a low growl, narrowed his eyes, and a second later had tackled him into the pillar – hungrier, more desperate, pressing into him. Hardison’s hands were around his back and hips, drawing him closer. He let himself be lifted onto tiptoes. Their hands found each other, fingers interlacing.

Hardison drew back, dazed, gently blinking his eyes open.

Eliot smirked.

“So?”

“Um, yeah, I do have a question.”

“Fire away.”

Hardison closed his eyes, and put emphasis into every word.

“How. Does that help me. With Parker.”

A voice piped up from the ceiling.

“Actually-“

Both men startled and fell apart.

“Woman? What are you doing on the ceiling?!”

Parker rolled her eyes, gestured at her harness as though it were obvious, “I sleep here.”

Hardison leaned into Eliot and muttered, “Do you know where she sleeps?”

“Beats me.”

“Yeah, I’m not into-“ Parker gestured vaguely at the two of them, motioned kissing with her fingertips pressed together “-that.” 

She sighed. “If you’re making all that noise, or moving around too much, a motion sensor will go off and BOOM you’re fried. I mean, how do you even crack a safe while that’s going on?”

Hardison raised a hand in protest. “I mean, not everything is about stealing-“

“She’s not going to buy that,” Eliot muttered to him.

Parker continued talking as she lowered herself to the floor.

“And mashing your mouth into someone else’s mouth? That’s just… eurgh.” She made another disgusted face, then her eyes widened in panic. Her eyes darted left to right as if recalling something she’d memorised.

“’I don’t mean to be rude; please, continue your activity-forward-slash-conversation.’”

Parker beamed and unclipped herself from the ropes.

“Sophie taught me that.”

She darted over and punched them both on the arm, then kissed Hardison on the cheek with equal fondness.

“Ok, you two have fun with your-“ she grimaced and shook her head “-mouths!”

The door slammed behind her.

There was a very, very long pause. Eliot puffed some hair out of his face, not looking at the man beside him. 

Hardison shuffled, staring at his feet.

“So, er, you wanna take it from the top?”

Eliot’s eyes gleamed. 


End file.
